


We Receive the Due Reward of Our Deeds

by MidnightandDiamonds



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, But the others are in there because I love them, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Rafe Adler: Bisexual Disaster™, Rafe goes from Jerk Thief to Penitent Thief, Rafe/Sam is the main ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-05 01:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16357712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightandDiamonds/pseuds/MidnightandDiamonds
Summary: "Nate had the sword pressed so closely to Rafe's throat that he could almost feel the skin slice under the pressure, if only Rafe lost the strength in his arms for a second. A millisecond. One lapse in control on Rafe's part and it would all be over...  But despite everything Rafe had done, Nate wasn't a killer. He didn't want to kill Rafe, but he would if he had to - if Rafe forced his hand and there was no other option."A look at how things could have gone at the end of U4 if Nate had managed to convince Rafe to help him save Sam on the ship, subsequently allowing all three of them to escape the island.





	We Receive the Due Reward of Our Deeds

**Author's Note:**

> So this is officially both the longest fic I've ever written and the fic that took me the longest to write, I actually wrote the first half of this two years ago but recently - after getting back into Sam/Rafe and with both encouragement and excitement from my friends about this idea - decided to finish it off finally!
> 
> Apologies if this is Bad™, especially the first half. I feel I've evolved a lot as a writer over the past two years and whilst I did go through and edit it before continuing, I felt that changing it too much wouldn't be honouring past me and the growth I've gone through. That being said, it'll be interesting to see if other people can actually tell where the difference between two years ago and now begins!
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading it ^_^

Nate had the sword pressed so closely to Rafe's throat that he could almost feel the skin slice under the pressure, if only Rafe lost the strength in his arms for a second. A millisecond. One lapse in control on Rafe's part and it would all be over...  But despite everything Rafe had done, Nate wasn't a killer. He didn't _want_ to kill Rafe, but he would if he had to - if Rafe forced his hand and there was no other option.

"Now that's the Nathan Drake I hear so much about." Rafe goaded wildly. His control was slipping, it had been for a long time in the grand scheme of things. Just one break in concentration and it was over... No. Nate was many things, but he wasn't a killer. Rafe was at his mercy, he wouldn't - _couldn't -_ just kill him.

The gold - gold that they'd all spent years chasing, like the lingering moments of a vivid dream that were suddenly out of reach - was glistening and dousing them in a dark orange hue. The timber of Avery's ship crackled and burned around them, casting an intense light that seemed to heighten every movement and emotion.

Their dream was quite literally going up in flames around them - Rafe unable to let go of what was so closely within grasp - but still Nate refused to take the easy option and end the man who had been a thorn in his side since the moment they'd met. So, Nate did the only thing he could think of to try and get them all out of there alive - he hit Rafe where he _knew_ it would hurt.

"Stop." Nate mustered as menacingly as he could, punctuating his brashness with a particularly powerful push of his sword against Rafe's own - inching closer to its desired target, just enough to create a real threat. "Are you really going to let one of the only people who has ever _truly_ cared about you die?"

Nate had never seen Rafe's expression fall as quickly as it did in that moment. Knowing that he had Rafe's attention, Nate dared to continue.

"Look at him." Nate pushed a little harder as Rafe's gaze stayed fixed on him. "Look!"

Finally, Rafe's head turned slowly to fully take in the sight of Sam, trapped under a wooden beam as the ship burned around him. Unconscious. No way out on his own.  With the path their fight had taken them on, Sam was now only within reaching distance of where Nate held Rafe's life in the balance - the pressure against his sword didn't lessen, but Nate could tell that he had Rafe on tenterhooks with his every word.

Rafe's head snapped back to Nate instantly as he began to speak again, his tone growing harder and more spiteful as he gained momentum.

"You spent two years with him - and trust me I'd rather forget that ever happened - but are you seriously going to tell me that you feel nothing towards him anymore? No speck of respect or, hell, even friendship?" Oh, Nate could see that he had Rafe exactly where he wanted him; he probably shouldn't have enjoyed bringing Rafe down a level so brutally considering the situation, but goddamn did he deserve it.

Nate had always known Rafe had a soft spot for his brother - some sort of misguided hero worship, idolisation or something, Nate reckoned - and it was so satisfying to use Rafe's weakness against him like Rafe had tried to do to him. Nate just couldn't help himself as he metaphorically drove the knife deeper and deeper, seeing the sheer blankness in Rafe's expression increase as he hung on every syllable that now effortlessly fell from Nate's lips.

"Because he really cared about you Rafe; back when this all started he actually liked you and I never understood why - I _never will_ understand why - but he really fucking cared about you. I bet you could probably count on one hand how many people have ever really cared about you, not your money or your status but the real you, are you really willing to let one of them die for your own petty goals? Are you really willing to let _Sam_ die?" Despite the complete blankness that seemed to consume Rafe, the grip on his sword never faltered. Muscle memory from his years of fencing, he guessed. Nate pushed, but Rafe simply stood there - not pushing back, yet not relenting either.

Nate found it extremely unsettling, seeing Rafe so... empty. He stared into Rafe's eyes and nothing stared back; no crazed bloodlust, no inflated sense of self-idealisation. Just… nothing. The anger that had previously been overflowing from Nate now slowed to a simmer, as he stared into the hollow eyes of the man in front of him. The situation, the risk to his brother's life - to _all_ of their lives - was coming back into focus. Instead, desperation set in. They had to get out of there soon, before the ship fractured apart around them and plunged them into the water below. Sam wouldn't have a chance if that happened.

"Let it go, Rafe." Nate continued, his tone more pleading now. "It's all going up in flames around you! Let go of your ego and help me." His desperation became more tangible as he saw how close the fire was to engulfing the beam that held Sam down; they had to move now, or they were as good as dead.

"Help _Sam_." Nate was fully aware that he was practically begging by this point, despite the fact that he didn't expect Rafe to actually help him - he didn't care, _as long as Rafe let him save Sam._

That was all that mattered anymore.

Suddenly Rafe's face twisted, as if a painful realisation had overtaken him. Up until that point Nate didn't really know if what he was saying was making any difference whatsoever - Rafe hadn't exactly given him any indication of what was going through his head, a stark contrast to how violently destructive he'd been only moments ago. That should have been enough to tip Nate off that something about Rafe had changed, but he was so focused on getting to Sam that he didn't notice and frankly didn't care. He wasn't about to kill Rafe, but for all Nate cared he could stay and burn with the ship - it was just easier to convince Rafe to let him go, rather than continuing the fight and risking everyone's lives or killing Rafe outright. He knew it would be on his conscience forever if he did.

What Nate really wasn't expecting, however, was to see Rafe break in front of him.

Rafe's head snapped back to Sam's unmoving form so quickly that Nate was sure it had to have hurt; with the air rippling from the heat of the fire and the black smoke that was trying to consume them Nate couldn't be sure, but the look on Rafe's face seemed like... Unfocused horror? Disgust? Everything seemed so distorted in the heat of the moment that Nate really couldn't tell. But one thing he didn't mistake was the breathless gasp that left Rafe's throat seemingly involuntarily, the kind of pain that Nate hadn't seen or heard from Rafe in a _very_ long time.

" _Sam."_

And suddenly the resistance was gone. All the tension holding Rafe's arms in the blocking position suddenly dissipated, his sword dropping to the floor as a result. It happened so quickly that Nate had to physically stop himself from falling forward and killing Rafe simply by accident, which wouldn't have been particularly dignified for either of them. Then, just as quickly, Rafe was gone - moving swiftly to Sam's side with such an undisguised look of desperation Nate's sure it must've matched his own.

To say Nate was surprised at this turn of events would be an understatement. Nate was fucking dumbfounded. Rafe was a self-centred, egomaniacal sack of shit and this just didn't match Nate's -arguably well-founded - view of him. Nate found himself halted in confusion, the unexpectedly vacant space in front of him becoming the background to his aimless gaze.

"Nate! What the hell are you doing? Get over here and lift!" Rafe shouted furiously as a piece of debris threatened to trap him as it fell, breaking Nate from his absent-mindedness. Everything rushed back to him in an instant - the creaking timbers, the white-hot blaze, the punishing thickness of smoke permeating every inch of him. It overwhelmed him just as quickly, spurring him to move as the fear at Sam's fate once again rooted itself in Nate's very core.

Nate internally scolded himself, ‘Move, or Sam will die'; he refused to lose his brother, not now after they'd only just found each other again.

Running to Sam's side, Nate could see that Rafe's efforts to lift the beam by himself had been as futile as his own. A rush of crushing gratitude flooded him, he wouldn't have been able to get Sam out on his own. He knows he wouldn't, unless by some miracle he'd come up with a plan at the last second - which in all honesty was his style, but this was too important to be left to chance. Nate hadn't thought for a moment that it would have turned out like this - Rafe having a change of heart - but _fuck was he glad it did._

Nate situated himself on Sam's right, Rafe taking the left as they silently agreed to lift together to give Sam the best chance - but Nate still doubted they'd be able to move the beam enough for them drag Sam's stubbornly unconscious ass to safety. Nate looked over to Rafe, finding him already in position to start lifting.

"Alright, we gotta do this quick. On three. One, two, three-" Nate was interrupted by the sound of a painful groan from below them, drawing both his and Rafe's attention instantaneously. Sam was finally awake - just about. He was carefully testing the movement of his neck, moving side to side ever so slightly as he tentatively opened his eyes; his face became a contorted mess of pain and utter bewilderment as his gaze locked on to the first thing he saw.

" _Rafe?_ " It was almost inaudible over the cacophony of sounds that hailed the destruction occurring around them, but it was definitely there - and it was unmistakably pissed. Nate couldn't help but grin slightly despite the situation, because of course Sam somehow still found the time to be offended as he laid trapped on the floor of a burning boat. But hey, at least Nate knew he was relatively okay.

Rafe on the other hand seemed to have retreated back into himself again - his headed dropped low, avoiding looking anywhere that could make things worse for himself - Sam's reaction to his presence clearly hitting him in much the same way that Nate's vindictive words had earlier.  

Sam seemed to slightly diffuse when he caught sight of Rafe's grip on the beam, in a position to lift. Instead the confusion took over once more; it seemed that Sam had even less faith in Rafe than Nate had. What the hell had happened between them in the past two years? The last Nate knew Sam was always trying to get him to give Rafe the benefit of the doubt, but now his first thought was that Rafe was going kill him? Even Nate hadn't thought that low of Rafe, well not at first - not until he had a sword pointed towards his chest and a treacherous glint in his eye. A lot could change in fifteen years Nate guessed, he knew he sure had.

"Why're you-" Sam started, but Nate wasn't about to have all of them die over a conversation they could have when they were far away from immediate danger.

"Sam, we don't have time for this. We need to get you out. Do you think you'll be able to walk?" Sam seemed to finally realise that his brother was standing to the other side of him and relaxed a little, probably a little more certain that Rafe wasn't about to kill him or at the very least leave him for dead as he originally intended - not that Sam needed to know that right now.

"Yeah, legs are a little tingly but I think I can shuffle out if we all try an' lift." Sam replied, focusing on the task at hand.

"Alright, let's do this. On three, everyone lift. One." Everyone got into position, Nate and Rafe retaking their stances to lift whilst Sam shifted a little until he could push the beam upwards effectively.

"Two." Rafe finally lifted his head again, eyes locking with Nate's across the hold. The stiff nod that passed between them conveyed everything they were thinking clearly, no need for words.

"Three!" An unmistakably wooden groan was all any of them could hear as they channelled their last reserves of energy into lifting the wooden support, ending the crush Sam had been enduring for what must have been at least ten minutes. Nate knew his brother was tough, but he was damn impressed that after everything Sam still found the strength to push as hard as he was - practically forming a structural base that allowed Nate and Rafe to lift as Sam held the majority of the weight over him.

Rafe on the other hand seemed to be struggling, Nate could see his body physically shaking with the strain of the weight. Something clicked when Nate caught sight of the ripped shirt and the blood that coated it, remembering the firm slice he'd dealt to Rafe's abdomen during their fight and cursing himself for his lucky accuracy - they couldn't afford for Rafe to weaken from the shock and blood loss he was clearly suffering. If he lost his grip, the strength in his arms - or even his entire body if it was as bad as Nate suspected - failing, then all they would have succeeded in doing was crushing Sam once again. Rafe seemed determined however, continuing to put everything he had left within himself into raising the hunk of rotting wood. 

After about fifteen seconds of struggling to lift, the three of them finally managed to raise the beam high enough for Sam to slide out from under it - but they had a problem. Sam was still carrying most of the weight from his braced position on the floor, if he let go to move the beam would most likely fall and crush his legs rather than his torso like it had previously - if that happened... Nate didn't even want to think about it, just the echo in his head of the sound it would make was enough to make him nearly gag.

"Alright guys, we've nearly got it. Rafe, you and I need to take the weight off Sam, think you can do that?" Nate asked, not bothering to keep the mild condescension out of his voice.

"Of course I can." Rafe snapped defensively, despite the fact that he was slightly bent forward - compensating for the pain from the deep wound Nate had inflicted upon his abdomen. Rafe clearly wasn't about to pass out so Nate decided to just let it go, he didn't have the time or patience to care about the man who had been on the precipice of killing them all only minutes ago.

"Sam, you'll need to move quickly - I can't guarantee we'll be able to keep it in the air and I don't know about you but being crushed again doesn't sound like a good idea right now." Humour was very much their coping mechanism when it came to near death experiences; both Nate and Sam knew that if they allowed themselves to get to caught up in the idea of either of them dying, they'd become too consumed with the fear of it that they'd slip up and someone definitely would die - humour made sure they stayed focused, stayed alive.

"Gotta agree with you there, little brother." Sam said with a lilt of amusement, the slight lift to his face sobering when he once again caught sight of Rafe - their gazes finally meeting if only for a few seconds - as he shifted into the best position to shuffle out. This time it was different though, Nate no longer saw anger or confusion in Sam's expression - strangely, he saw something more like abashed sadness. It reminded him of how Sam had been careful not to stray too far from the shadow of their small room in Madagascar, apologetically quiet as Elena finally discovered the truth behind Nate's lies. But unlike then, when Sam had been arrogantly sure that Nate would follow him no matter what (and damn that bastard for being right), Nate saw something else buried deep in his eyes. Maybe, just maybe, he saw a glint of hope. Hope at what he couldn't be sure; hope that they had a chance to escape or hope for something else entirely, something Nate couldn't quite put his finger on but had been tangible in the air surrounding Sam for quite some time.

Nate had put Sam's strange, indefinable tension down to the hunt for Avery's treasure. It had been there ever since their reunion, so he wasn't sure what else it could have been - maybe his time in prison? Nevertheless, Nate found it easy to ignore at first. Then the auction happened and the tenseness that seemed to be a permanent fixture for Sam did nothing but grow, still though he continued to let it slide. He attributed it to the obvious added pressure of Rafe, Nadine and her entire goddamn army on their backs but now with the treasure found, Rafe aiding their escape, and Nadine almost certainly far away by now - along with her significantly dented army - Nate couldn't help but wonder why that same heaviness was still there. Not the tension of near death, he'd witnessed that enough to know that Sam showed clear signs - which admittedly he was displaying right now - but this unexplainable tension that still emanated from him appeared to have no source or signifier (not that Nate could see at least). It just was, and it confused the fuck out of him.

"Okay, let's do this." Nate parted his legs a little further to spread the weight of the beam throughout his entire body, seeing Rafe do the same on the other side. Taking the weight of the beam so suddenly would be a struggle for them both, Nate just hoped that if they did it right they could get it over with quickly.

Slowly Sam began to release his grip on the beam, the weight transferring over to both Nate and Rafe - their iron-clad grips growing tighter the more Sam removed himself. When only the final release was left Nate made sure to lock his joints in place to provide a better foundation, hoping that Rafe had the presence of mind to do the same.

"You guys got it?" Sam asked apprehensively, not wanting to fully release his hold before he could be sure it wasn't instantly going to crash back down on him. Nate fleetingly glanced over to Rafe who seemed to be managing the pressure baring down on him well enough, both grunting out an affirmation to Sam - eager to end the strain as quickly as possible.

"A'right, I'm gonna let go." Sam dropped his arms as quickly as he could, trusting his brother and Rafe to keep him from harm as his hands dug into the brittle wood beneath him - pushing hard to propel himself to safety. The stark sound of cracking raised Nate's heartbeat up a notch as he fully expected to see his brother plummet into the water below, instead he felt a slight chill lapping at his feet - coming to realise that despite cracking enough to allow water to seep in, the floor underneath was just about holding under the arduous weight above.

Nate wasn't sure how much longer their luck could last.

It couldn't have taken longer than five seconds for Sam to shuffle out and away from the beam, but the unimaginable weight that Nate was enduring made it feel a lot longer. For Rafe however, it must have seemed like an eternity. Nate had to hand it to him, Rafe's grip never faltered whilst Sam was still in danger despite the pain that was radiating out of every inch of him - every muscle tensed with searing agony, his facade of strength unable to do anything but fracture under the strain. However, as soon as he was sure Sam was far enough away from the wooden support Rafe released a painful groan, unable to hold on any longer. The beam ripped out of both their grips and tore into the rotting floor, channelling more water into the cavity in which they stood.

A few seconds passed between the three of them; Sam sat in the rising water, allowing himself time to fully waken after his bout of unconsciousness, whilst Nate and Rafe caught their breath and regained their strength - the latter finding it a harder feat, as his ragged breathing and the mild but constant stream of blood from his wound proved.

Now that they'd freed Sam, Nate finally regained awareness of his surroundings; the blistering heat of the fire struck him like a slap to the face. The ship was almost entirely engulfed in flames, Nate's momentarily lapse in perception meaning that safe escape seemed impossible as the fire licked at every alcove - Nate’s disorientation from the fight and the black smoke that quickly filled the room making it even harder to find break in the fire, a weak point, _anything_! He was beginning to panic, he knew, but he just needed to stay calm and find a solution. There was always a solution. Sam, seemingly come to his senses, had quickly made his way over - standing between Nate and Rafe as the three of them scanned the area for a way out.

"Ya know, thanks for saving me an' all but it ain't gonna be much use if we’ve all been burnt to a crisp before we can escape." Rafe clearly didn't appreciate Sam's attempt at humour if the look he gave him was anything to go by; clutching his stomach, shoulders hunched to limit the pull on the wound, Rafe pointed towards a glinting silver colour that Nate was finally able to make out as the steps he had descended earlier.

"The door, the fire hasn't reached it yet. We just need to lift it and we can get out." Rafe explained through gritted teeth; the exertion from the first lift made Nate think it unlikely Rafe would be able to pull off another - but he wouldn't put it past him to try.

Making their way through the smoke and blinding brightness of the fire, they came to a stop where wooden flooring gave into metal steps and the ornate door loomed over them. The walls on either side of it currently burned with hot embers that could burst fully into flame at any time, converging on their only escape. Nate thought on their continued good luck as he ascended; he had believed the door to already be alight but luckily, he'd been proven wrong - it wouldn't stay that way for long though.

Sam and Rafe stood a little further back from the steps, allowing Nate - the only one of them who hadn't been majorly disorientated - the space to quickly survey the situation and find the best way to grip the door.

Sam's eyes never left Rafe once.

The slight twitchiness Rafe was exuding told Nate that he was fully aware of Sam's gaze, but he kept his eyes stubbornly forward on the door - afraid or unwilling to meet Sam's eye, Nate couldn't be sure. If Rafe had dared to look, it wouldn't have been anger he'd seen as he was surely expecting. It was definitely there though; Sam wasn't about to forgive and forget everything that had happened just because Rafe'd helped save his life once - and only after a forceful push from Nate. Yet despite this, his brother was returning to form; it seemed fifteen years of mediocre ups and extremely low downs hadn't completely left Sam devoid of his naively inherent belief in Rafe.

Sam's eyes travelled between Rafe's bloodied hands, protecting his gaping wound, and his hard-set expression as he tried to hide the pain. He looked conflicted, as if his first instinct was to pull Rafe close and tend his injuries but his common sense was telling him otherwise - dredging up every bad memory and all of Rafe's many, many issues. Yet, it still wasn't enough to quell Sam's faith in him.

Personally, Nate thought Sam must've been either really stupid or impossibly perceptive. He hoped it was the latter, fully expected it to be the former. Only time would tell he guessed.

"Hey Sam, can you-" Nate was cut short of asking Sam to help with the door by a thunderous crack that echoed from behind the skeletons of Avery and Tew; everything felt as if it had come to a standstill. For a brief second as Nate met Sam's panicked expression, light from the outside world filtered in - dappling light on the faded ivory bones of two of the most infamous pirates in history, bones that hadn't seen the light of day in hundreds of years.

In an instant they were gone, engulfed once more. Not by darkness or fire, but by the glistening blue clarity of the Indian ocean that surrounded Libertalia. The old, rotten ship couldn't withstand the brutal punishment it was enduring any longer and with one almightily vocal message, it had ruptured.

Seconds passed in a flash, everything switching to autopilot as Nate and Sam silently shared a look that conveyed what they both knew what was coming. Nate was on the floor before he could blink, grasping as tightly as he could onto the steps and hoping to God that they held out against the onslaught that was coming. Sam wasn't so lucky, he and Rafe were effectively in No Man's Land - nowhere for them to hold onto in time, no protection from the force of the oncoming tide.

The last thing Nate saw before the water hit him was Sam and Rafe turning to one another, both reaching out to the other for some sense of safety - the roaring of the water becoming synonymous with his brother's rough voice, shouting Rafe's name, before it was abruptly cut off.

Strikingly cold water invaded Nate's every sense as it surged in - the pressure pushing the fracture in the hull wider and wider, in turn allowing more water to flood past. The power of the water had easily threatened to sweep Nate away, his grip on the sturdy steps the only thing that saved him from the immense pain of being barraged into some immovable object at full speed. The emptiness in front of him, once the flood had subsided, told Nate that not everyone was as fortuitous.

Nate took the opportunity to rise from his spot, the water hindering his movements from the waist down and climbing constantly - albeit at a slower pace that it had been. The ship was going down that much was for sure, and it seemed determined to take them all with it.

"Sam!" Nate shouted as he caught sight of where his brother had been hurtled to - or rather he saw Rafe, huddled around Sam as they clung tightly to each other. Sam was pressed firmly against the metal mesh that lined sections of the hull, he must've somehow turned during the commotion meaning that he took the full impact rather than Rafe. Nate didn't doubt that Sam had done it purposefully; with the injuries Rafe already had, if they hadn't changed positions, it was likely he wouldn't have come out of it well - if at all.

Sam's head was buried in the crook of Rafe's shoulder - practically curled around him to bridge the difference in height - and vice versa, each using the other's body to protect their faces against the water. The positioning of their hands mirrored almost perfectly, their minds apparently working in tandem with a single steadfast intention - protect each other, no matter the cost.

Both stood with one hand cradling the back of the other's head, protecting against the trauma of the high velocity they were flung into, whilst the second seemed fixed around their counterpart's waist in a crushing embrace - preventing them from being pulled apart. For a few seconds after the water had slowed they stayed like that, slowly relaxing into one another and exchanging their death-grip for a gentler one. Nate stood fixated in his place, unsure what to think about the sight in front of him but feeling the niggling impulse to look away.

He was snapped out of his reverie by the sound of wheezing that suddenly started rattling out of his brother - had he stopped breathing before? Or had the shock of the impact temporarily halted his responses? He shouldn't have started breathing so rapidly like that; a million possibilities ran through Nate's head of what could have happened. Impalement. Blunt force trauma. Drowning....

Rafe reacted quickly, pulling away from Sam to assess the damage whilst Nate waded over as fast as he was able.

"Sam. Samuel, look at me. What is it? What's wrong?" Rafe spoke hurriedly, his hands coming up to frame Sam's face and force their eyes to meet. Sam took a few deep, painful breaths as Rafe acted as a support - allowing Sam to lean forward from the pain without falling forward.

"S'alright, just winded that's all…" Another deep breath broke up his sentence. "Maybe a little bit of internal bleeding, nothin' major. Hit the wall pretty hard." Sam added with as much of a light chuckle as he could manage, forcing himself to be alright as he pulled in a carefully regulated gasp. Rafe tried to seem frustrated with Sam's avoidance of the problem, but the small smile he was unsuccessfully hiding showed it wasn't working.

Nate finally reached them, snapping them out of their bubble. In an instant Sam became closed off again, taking on a more sombre look as he leaned away from Rafe - although not completely removing himself from the other man's hold. Rafe noticed the change immediately; attempting to rebuild his unflappable facade, Rafe took the final move and backed away from Sam a couple of steps - giving room for Nate to check on his brother.

Sam's breathing had evened out slightly but he was still having trouble drawing in anything other than long, painful gasps. Despite this, he was no longer making that disconcerting noise that had led Nate to believe things were worse than they were, giving him the hope that their chance to leave had finally arrived.

"Sam, you okay?" Nate asked, a supportive hand dropping to his brother's shoulder.

"Yeah, good to go." Sam added a little thumbs up for reassurance, ignoring the fact that he had inadvertently started to bear his weight onto the side Nate was supporting - suggesting he wasn't as alright as he tried to make out.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, jus' wanna get the hell outta this place." Nate agreed wholeheartedly with that sentiment; the water was still rising - the heavy gold pulling the remains of the ship further below the surface - and although the flood had put out most of the fire, flames still encroached upon them from the ceiling. They didn’t have much time left.

"Yeah. Yeah, let's go." Nate turned, fully intending to make a break for the hole in the side of the ship - the light hailing their best chance at freedom. However, he stopped short when he saw Rafe standing a few paces away from the brothers looking as if he were ready to pass out, a swirling red lightly tinting the water around his stomach. The adrenaline had worn off and he looked completely wrecked, his hair hung down and threatened to cover his eyes - his arms feeling too heavy to do anything, let alone brush it aside. Not that it would have mattered, Nate was sure that his eyes were completely unfocused anyway – he didn’t seem to be taking in much of anything properly.

"Sam?" Nate hinted, his head twitching towards Rafe. Sam's gaze immediately followed to where he'd motioned; the adrenaline-fuelled hardness to his eyes softened at how badly Rafe was struggling to stay on his feet. It would be a struggle to get him out, but Nate could tell Sam wasn’t just going to leave Rafe behind. Nate didn’t really want to leave him behind either, not after seeing how badly he was doing.

"Got it." Sam replied, moving towards Rafe as swiftly as he could despite the resistance of the water. Placing a hand on his shoulder, Sam gently shook him from his stupor - but instead of startling at the contact as Nate had expected, Rafe only glanced up him. Nate could see the same emptiness from earlier well up again, threatening to consume him as he practically looked through Sam.

Rafe's state was starting to become worrying, even Nate had to admit he was concerned - was it shock or something else? The look Sam threw him said everything words couldn't at the time. He was scared. Scared that Rafe was going to stay behind, trapped in his own self-flagellation and left to sink along with everything he'd worked for. Scared that they'd be left with no choice but to leave him behind because no matter what, they all knew that the brothers' first concern was each other and if it was them or Rafe then in the end there was no contest.

"Rafe, we gotta go." Sam said with a gentle desperation, attempting to pull him back to reality with a firm squeeze to his shoulder. Rafe barely responded, a few seconds of delay before he seemed able to focus on Sam's face and realise what was going on.

"Yeah... Right, of course…" Rafe fumbled breathlessly, he wobbled slightly as he turned towards the gap in the wall - the only thing preventing him from collapsing into the steadily rising water being Sam's grip on his shoulder. Rafe had seemingly been oblivious to how high the water had reached until that point, so it didn't take a genius to realise his disorientation would make it difficult for him to reach freedom alone. So, when Sam placed himself firmly behind Rafe, one hand returning to his shoulder - spreading his hand so that it almost encompassed the back of his neck - and the other coming up to take Rafe’s hand in a grounding grip, Nate wasn't surprised or shocked. He just took his chance and moved.

"I got you Rafe, just go." Sam whispered quietly when Rafe seemed mildly affronted by the help he was receiving - but they all knew there was no time to argue. It seemed he had come a little bit more to his senses if his ability to act more like his usual self was anything to go by; now that the danger had once again reared its head Rafe's adrenaline had taken over and allowed him to focus on getting out. Nate was extremely grateful for it, because the longer he saw Sam's careful attention to Rafe's well-being the less he believed Sam would leave Rafe behind for his own safety.

Although Rafe appeared to be relatively okay now - other than the severe exhaustion from his physical injuries - Sam's grip only loosened rather than releasing altogether. They walked in tandem towards Nate who was waiting for them at the opening of the hull, cool air blowing in from the outside allowing him to breath properly for the first time in what felt like hours.

They were progressing faster than Nate had expected but the ship was burnt, sodden and falling apart; gold coins and statuettes threatened to trip them underfoot as they slid easily in the water, the heavier antiques causing the wooden floor to fracture further under multiple pressures - including the three men. Sam's constant grip ensured that Rafe stayed upright; when his reactions weren't fast enough to avoid the dangerously ever-changing terrain around them Sam was there, a firm grip and a sharp pull protecting Rafe from further injury. 

Something about watching them made Nate infinitely glad that Elena was nowhere near the death-trap of Avery’s ship; if it were the other way around, Nate’s sure he’d be as desperate to get her out alive as Sam was to get Rafe out of harm’s way.

Now wasn’t that the strangest comparison he’d made all day? Likening he and his wife to his brother and the man who, only minutes previously, had been hell-bent on killing them both... Their lives were so messed up.

Nate swept the thought to one side for now, favouring to hasten their escape by jumping into the water below as Sam and Rafe neared the exit – giving them the room to do whatever the hell they were going to do to get themselves out, without one or both of them drowning from shock and exhaustion.

Rafe jumped from the ship next, warily watched by Sam who was prepared to follow him immediately without a moment’s thought if he saw him start to struggle in the water. Luckily, Rafe had enough of a grasp of himself for the time being to keep himself afloat next to Nate. Together, the two of them watched as Sam prepared to jump.

A raucous creaking snap stopped him in his tracks, drawing everyone’s attention to the source of the sound. The mast had come loose from the ship, dragging tonnes upon tonnes of rock with it as it scraped down the interior of the cave.

If they didn’t hurry, the whole pace would crash down on top of them!

“Sam, jump!” Nate yelled, his brother didn’t think twice before plummeting into the icy water below. He broke through the water just as another explosion sounded from deep inside the belly of the ship, tearing it in two and – as if in slow motion - capsizing the remnants above them. The universe was certainly doing it’s best to bury them on that godforsaken island.

“Go, go!” Sam ordered as he surfaced, ushering them to begin swimming towards daylight as quickly as they could. The rapid desperation to get away couldn’t help but remind Nate of the prison escape, all those years ago. Seconds away from death at any given moment, the three of them running for their lives against all the odds. Nate refused to let it end the same way, all of them would make it out alive – he’d make sure of it.

Daylight encroached as Nate dragged himself through the water, flashes in corner of his eye as his head moved informing him that the others were managing to keep pace. They could do this, they could _really_ do this. They were almost safe.

The entrance crumbled dangerously as they swam through, somehow managing to avoid the falling debris. True to form they make it into the open air just as the mountain rains down behind them, blocking Avery’s sinking ship from view – the treasure going with it. It was where it belonged, hopefully never to be found again. It wasn’t worth the cost.

A short swim was all that remained, yet Nate refused to let his guard down - not until everyone was on dry land. If anything happened to jeopardise their trek to the relative safety of the shore, he would be ready for it.

Instead of danger though, he was greeted with the sight of the one person he wanted to see most.

“Nate!” Elena knelt down at the water’s edge, reaching her hand out to pull her husband up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah...” Nate replied breathily, watching as she turned to the two still in the water. Sam was up next, Rafe having fallen a little way behind given his injuries. He didn’t waste any time as he finally touched solid ground, immediately getting up to help Elena drag Rafe out after them. It wasn’t easy – Rafe could barely hold any of his own weight and the pressure of the rocky outcrop on his wound wasn’t helping matters – but between them, Elena and Sam managed it.

Once she was sure Sam was fine with Rafe, Elena made her way back to Nate without question – taking her radio out along the way.

“Hey, Sully? I got ‘em.” A few more words were exchanged between them which Nate didn’t have the energy to keep track of, then before he knew it Elena was firing off her flare gun to signal their position.

After a few more breaths Nate began to sit up, Elena crouching down next to him – nothing more to do but wait until Sully arrived to pick them up.

“You think we can trust him?” She asked quietly, eyes pointed to where Sam was sitting Rafe down gently.

“Honestly? I don’t know. For now, I think… Yeah. But when he’s recovered and back to his usual self? Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” Nate was a far cry away from being anything close to okay with Rafe, but he couldn’t ignore that something had changed during their fight. He saw a hope for Rafe, and call him naïve or sentimental all you like, but Nate clung on to all the hope he could get.

Elena seemed to accept his answer, saying nothing but bringing a hand up to rub gently across his back – a gesture of comfort for the both of them.

They sat in silence, carefully watching as Sam still attended to Rafe despite the lack of immediate danger. Although there was the fact that Rafe was completely exhausted from the looks of it, barely able to keep his head up. He quickly stopped trying though, favouring to lay back and limit the exertion instead. Given their positions, Rafe inadvertently ended up with his head resting in Sam’s lap – Sam either not having realised soon enough, or not caring enough to move out of the way.

For a few moments Rafe seemed content with simply looking up at Sam, despite the fact that he refused to meet his eye. It was as if Sam was stuck staring into the ground, fully aware of Rafe’s attention yet unable to look anywhere near him. It was as if he just didn’t know what to do with everything that had happened, so he didn’t do anything at all.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Samuel.”

Sam’s head turned unnervingly fast, looking so confused it seemed almost painful.

None of them had ever expected to hear those words, least of all Sam from the looks of things. But there they were - Rafe breathless and barely able to speak, and Sam looking at him so intensely it was in jarring contrast to moments earlier.

“I- I don’t know how to- I _can’t_ \- I can’t make it better. I took it too far and I’m just- I’m sorry.” Sam’s hand seemed to instinctively reach out and brush the hair from Rafe’s eyes soothingly, it was evident in his expression that he was still struggling to handle it all but the need to take care of Rafe became the overriding impulse.

“Shh I know… I know. Just take it easy, Sweetheart. We’ll talk about everything later.”

Wait, _Sweetheart?_

Oh.

Ohhhh…

Nate was such an _idiot_ sometimes.

Why hadn’t he realised sooner? Everything made so much sense now; Sam’s indignant fury at Rafe like a woman scorned, Rafe’s strange fixation on keeping Sam around and getting Nate out of the picture.

Nadine’s voice suddenly rattled around his mind.

“Because you think you need him… And maybe you do.”

_Of course_ , they’d been talking about Sam. Nate added that to the long list of ‘Things to Tear into Sam About Later’.

The sound of the plane coming in to land halted everything, the prospect of finally leaving the island becoming everyone’s sole focus. It took a few more minutes, but soon enough Sully had managed to set down not far from their position. The four slowly made their way over, Nate and Elena taking point as Sam hung back to provide Rafe with a support as he walked.

Sully rounded the corner of the door just as Nate walked the last few metres towards it, the joy on his face at seeing them all alive - and relatively unharmed - quickly replaced with dismay as his eyes landed on Rafe.

“Aw hell, did you really have to bring him with you?” He asked Nate, he was too tired to explain it but he knew that if he seemed sure about what he was doing then Sully would go along with it for now.

“‘fraid so.” Nate didn’t miss the quiet grumble Sully had about the whole situation, but after Nate and Elena had both situated themselves in the plane he helped Sam bundle Rafe in anyway.

Sully wasted no time in getting them in the air after that, happy that everyone was ready to get as far away from Libertalia as possible. The gentle rumble of the plane as it flew smoothly out to sea was the most reassuring thing Nate could have hoped to hear, yet he couldn’t help but notice Sam and Rafe’s dual confliction.

From their respective sides of the window, they gazed out across the distance to the stark outline of the mountain against the blue sky that surrounded it. Finding Avery’s treasure had meant so much to both of them, more than it had truly meant to Nate in a long time, and now it was just… gone. Fifteen years of endless research and pain, and so much of that time spent searching together - just the two of them. In the grand scheme of things it wasn’t hard to see why they’d fallen for each other, why they _kept_ falling for each other - time and time again, over the past decade and a half - in spite of everything. He could see it happening right in front of his eyes, but maybe this time – with some much needed honesty and communication - it would stick.

They were so alike in so many ways – they always had been – and Nate couldn’t help but wonder what had happened in those two years to make the pair so at odds the previous few weeks. Sam had always been the one in Rafe’s corner - trusting him, encouraging him, caring about him when no one else wanted to. The difference in all of that when he’d returned had been surprising but he’d never thought to question it, favouring instead to blindly trust his brother’s word. Now it seemed Nate had more questions than answers…

But that was a discussion for another time, they all had things they needed to deal with separately. When all was said and done, then they could go back and address everything else. For now though they all just sat quietly, watching the island grow further away from view.

A small movement subtly caught Nate’s attention beneath the window – a hand, moving gently toward another. Without a word, Sam gently wrapped his pinky finger around Rafe’s and held on like his life depended on it. To Nate it seemed like an innocently sweet gesture, borne out of cautiousness at how he would be received. However, Rafe’s unconcealed expression of pain and the sharp intake of breath as he gripped back against the pressure - without hesitation - suggested something else entirely. This was something incredibly personal for the two of them, something with a history.

_Jesus_ , how deep did their history go? How far back? Before or after the prison?

Nate stopped his thoughts in their tracks, no point contemplating it all right then. He was sure that once he had the chance to talk to Sam alone, he’d find out everything he wanted to know…

…That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to pay attention to every single little moment that passed between them though. What could he say? He was a treasure hunter - naturally curious - and he had a lot of catching up to do with this particular find.

Watching Sam and Rafe in that moment was like hearing an entire conversation without a single word being spoken, they knew exactly what the other was thinking and how to respond in a look – the furrowing of a brow, the hint of a reassuring smile. It was as if they’d never been apart, totally in sync.

And then the moment passed; eye-contact was broken and hands folded back to themselves - distance put between them once again.

It was going to take a long time to fix what had been damaged between them, but there was hope. No matter what, Nate always liked to believe hope was enough.

That, and a _really_ good therapist.

Elena seemed to notice the change in atmosphere too - probably as eagle-eyed as Nate had been but much subtler about it, knowing her.

“Hey, you uh, you want me to dress that for you?” Elena asked neutrally, drawing Rafe’s attention. He looked down at himself, as if he’d forgotten the wound across his abdomen. He probably had actually, no doubt numb from the exhaustion and adrenaline.

“Oh, right. Sure, if that’s… alright?” Elena was already moving for the first aid supplies, tense but not leaving room for argument all the same.

“Lift up your shirt.” The silence that filled the plane as Elena got to work assessing Rafe’s wound was palpably awkward, as if they’d all suddenly realised just how messed up everything was between every single one of them. Nate tried to ignore it, focusing instead on Elena’s process.

She began by wiping away as much excess blood and dirt as she could; despite how bad it had seemed earlier it wasn’t actually that deep of a cut, but it was extensive – bisecting him almost entirely across the stomach. Elena remained unphased however, simply moving on to the antiseptic liquid and pouring a generous amount onto a cloth.

“Ow.” Rafe complained tersely, trying to hold back from saying anything in a way that might get him thrown out of the plane.

“That’s for trying to kill my husband.” Elena replied flatly, not afraid to let her displeasure known.

_That’s my girl._

Another sharp intake of breath from Rafe accompanied the second swipe of antiseptic across the wound.

“And what about that one?”

Elena didn’t respond for a few seconds, but when she did it was softer and tinged with an unexpected hurt.

“…For disappearing on me without a word.”

_Wait, what?_

“It’s nice to see you again too, Elena.” Rafe admitted sincerely with a small, sad smile on his face.

_Today was full of revelations…_

“You two know each other?” Nate was incredulous that he was only finding this out now but considering he hadn’t figured out what was going on between Sam and Rafe for God knows how long, he probably should have been less surprised. Elena hadn’t known Rafe was involved in everything for all that long, so it made sense why she hadn’t thought to bring it up until now.

“Yeah… we uh, we were at college together. Believe it or not, we actually dated for a little while back then. Until this asshole up and left with no explanation, and I never heard from him again.” Elena tried to keep her tone light, but he could tell she was still hurt by everything that had happened – both then and now.

Rather than dig further, Nate wanted more than anything to make Elena laugh. He hated seeing her hurting - he’d given her enough cause for it himself – so instead he chose the route of good old well-placed humour.

“Seriously? Has everyone on this plane dated Rafe apart from me?” From where she was half turned away from him, Nate could see a smile erupt slowly on Elena’s lips.

_Nathan Drake: 1_

_Past Traumas: 0_

From the front of the plane, a gesturing hand signalled their attention.

“I’ve dated a few people in my time, but _he_ is definitely not one of them.” Sully steadfastly confirmed, albeit jokingly.

“Wouldn’t have turned me down back in the day though, would you Victor.” Rafe stated mischievously, raising his eyebrows amusedly at Sam who grinned in return. Sully cleared his throat in embarrassment, his hesitation clear – in that instant everyone knew Rafe was correct.

Sam’s laugh at Sully’s lack of an answer was brief but whole-hearted, a welcome sound amongst the darkness that life had brought them recently.

“I told you he found me attractive, Samuel, but you never believed me.” Rafe raised a hand – the one not currently holding his shirt up - in defence of his apparent ‘victory’.

“Smug son-of-a…” Sully started, but stopped short for the sake of his wounded pride.

“Wow… Fifteen years it took to settle that argument, it was totally worth it.” Sam chuckled fondly, remembering a time when things had felt so much simpler.

“Well, that’s now the worst image I have in my head…” Nate cringed, he didn’t want to imagine Sully like that at the best of times – let alone with Rafe of all people…

_Nope, shutting down that thought straight away._

Thankfully he was distracted as Rafe gingerly spoke up again.

“For what it’s worth though, Elena, I’m sorry for leaving like that. If this experience has taught me one thing, it’s how it feels to be left in the lurch by someone you care about. It’s… one of the worst feelings in the world. I’m sorry I ever thought it was okay to do that.” The ashamed look on Sam’s face spoke volumes about how their relationship had ended.

“Thanks, Rafe.” Elena smiled a little - genuinely appreciating Rafe’s apology - before putting down the antiseptic and reaching for the roll of bandage to patch him up with.

“Sorry for the whole… trying to kill your husband thing too.” Nate snorted at that, out of surprise or condescension even he couldn’t tell. Probably a bit of both. It was hard to believe Rafe’s apologies, considering he’d been millimetres away from killing him barely an hour ago.

“Getting off the island – knowing that the treasure is gone for good - has given me some… perspective, I guess. The anger, the obsession, it’s all just drained away – for now at least. All I know is that everything feels so much clearer than it has in a long time, I don’t really know how to explain it…” Rafe trailed off, unsure if what he was saying made sense.

“I know exactly how you feel.” Sam reassured, the pair more than likely going through much the same process of thought as they came to terms with all that had happened.

Rafe hesitated stiffly, as if trying to comprehend how Sam was _anywhere close_ to knowing how he felt. Nate was well aware of how quickly Rafe could switch from cool-headed businessman to volatile murderer – had seen it with his own eyes back in Panama – but yet again Rafe managed to surprise him. Rather than returning to his malicious ways Rafe instead took a breath, thought for a few moments, and looked back up to Sam calmly.

“I know you do.”

Any tension that had arisen in those few seconds dissipated instantly, a result of the sudden clarity with which everyone realised Rafe was actively controlling himself - that he was _really_ trying. Nate felt surprisingly reassured, confident in a way he hadn’t been earlier that Rafe actually _could_ change. That he already had, in some way.

“There, all done.” Elena chirped warmly, prompting Rafe to look down at her handiwork gratefully before pulling his shirt back down over the layers of bandage.

“Thank you.” Rafe smiled at her as kindly as he could muster, before looking to Nate. “For not giving up on me.”

Nate gave a firm nod, not sure exactly what he could say but wanting to acknowledge it nonetheless. Rafe returned it with gracious acceptance, after all progress was progress no matter how small.

_Baby steps_ , Nate thought _._

Yeah… He liked the sound of that.

 

* * *

 

 

Rafe felt cleaner and more content than he had in a long time.

The flight back into Madagascar proper didn’t take long at all meaning they’d had some time to organise travel, gather some supplies, and begin to relax after their recent ordeal. Before they knew it, evening had faded in and they were all standing on the docks where Sullivan had landed the plane - saying their farewells to one another.

So there Rafe stood - brand new clothes, soft and intact against his tender skin – shaking the hand of one Nathan Drake.

“Stay outta trouble, because if I hear you’ve put one foot wrong I will be on you so fast you won’t know what hit you.” Nate said it light-heartedly as he let go of his hand, but Rafe was fully aware how seriously he meant it.

“Trust me, I’m just as eager to avoid being that person again.” Rafe assured, he used to think being ruthless in his pursuits was the only way to succeed. He’d been wrong, all it had brought him was pain and the loss of everything and everyone he loved.

_Well, almost everyone…_

“Yeah, it’s gonna be a while before the idea of you saying ‘trust me’ doesn’t make my skin crawl but I appreciate the sentiment.” Well, at least Nate was being honest.

“Fair enough.” Rafe acquiesced, after all he’d expected it to go much worse than it had - he’d take what he could get. 

“Bye Rafe.” The small but friendly smiled accompanied with it was a welcome gesture, one that Rafe returned easily.

“Bye.” Nate was already looking over to where Elena was approaching, having finished saying goodbye to Sam and wanting to have her chance to do the same with Rafe.

With one final look to Rafe, Nate was on his way over to talk with his brother - yet in an instant the space in front of him was filled again.

“You better stay in touch this time, you hear me?” Elena ordered, she’d been messed around so much in her life – including by Nate, if the things he’d heard were anything to go by – and Rafe was going to make damn well sure it didn’t happen again.

“I will, I promise.” Rafe had never felt so sincerely about something in his life as he did then.

Neither of them really knew what to say after that, things were still somewhat awkward between them – it had been nigh on 17 years since they’d last seen each other after all, and it wasn’t a particularly pleasant memory for Elena. Despite all of that, she still managed to surprise him though.

Before he knew it, Rafe was being pulled into a crushing hug. The confusion only lasted a second before he was holding her just as tightly, not quite believing how lucky he’d gotten to find her again. He desperately hoped they could become friends again, given some time. He was willing to wait, as long as it took.

“I missed you.” Admitting it sounded like painful relief, he couldn’t image how hard it must have been for her say.

“I missed you too.” And he really had. He’d pushed it aside, hidden it behind the thrill and desire of hunting for the treasure, but he’d never forgotten her. He never could.

After one final squeeze she pulled away with a tearful smile.

“Take care of yourself.”

“You too.” He had no idea where he’d end up after this, but Rafe hoped this wouldn’t be the last time he saw her. They had a lot of catching up to do.

A throat cleared behind him, signalling the end of their time together.

“No hug for an old man?” Sullivan asked as he walked up next to Rafe, undoubtedly wanting his own chance to say his goodbyes to Elena.

“Get in here Sully, you’re not that old.” She held out her arms, inviting him into a comfortable embrace which he gladly accepted. Rafe took that as his hint to hang back, bolstered further by the addition of another voice.

“This a private party or can anyone join?” Nate asked jovially as he and Sam walked over from where they too had been saying their farewells, having finished saying all that need to be said for now. Sully and Elena parted to welcome them into the fold.

“You better join us, for all I know it could be another two years before I hear from you again.” Sully teased before pulling Nate into a hug, equally as caring as he had been with Elena.

“It won’t be, I’ll make sure of it.” Nate assured him, remorseful yet determined.

Sam clearly felt as intrusive as Rafe did at the scene in front of them, choosing to stand back with him rather than join the group. It was an uncomfortable few moments before either of them spoke up, acutely aware of the other’s presence but unsure how to proceed.

“So, how’s the cut?” Sam finally asked, neither’s gaze wandering anywhere near each other.

“Better now, thanks to Elena.” The woman in question a few metres away, smiling widely between her husband and her best friend.

“She sure is somethin’, Nate’s a lucky guy.” It was clear Sam was happy for his little brother, but Rafe had known him long enough and deeply enough to see the hint of sadness hidden behind the bravado. Nate didn’t need him anymore, and Sam wasn’t quite sure how to deal with that.

There was a lot Rafe wasn’t sure how to deal with either. Seeing Elena in front of him - safe and happy - drew his mind to another person he’d let down so irrevocably…

 “Do you… Do you think Nadine made it out alive?” He knew Sam didn’t have the highest opinion of Nadine, given everything that had happened, but Rafe couldn’t stop himself from asking. Sam was understandably surprised – finally giving the man beside him his full attention, albeit out of confusion.

Sam seemed to hesitate over an answer, but it was evident he could see how much Rafe was hurting at the idea that she hadn’t survived – _because of him_ – so he gave as honest an answer as he could.

“Nadine ‘Asskicker’ Ross? Yeah, I’m sure she’s out there somewhere - probably trying to rebuild her army. You… really did a number on her.” Sam finished solemnly, realising what he’d said would hurt but knowing it had to be said anyway.

“ _Shit_.”

It came crushing down on Rafe like a ton of bricks, letting loose everything he’d been holding back.

“Why the _hell_ did I do that? She stood by me through everything and I threw it back in her face.” She’d been right, she’d _always_ been right. They should have left when they had the chance, but no. His insatiable need to beat Sam - to make him ‘ _pay_ ’ for what he’d done to him - almost got them all killed. Somehow everyone had made it out alive and happy, to a point - everyone apart from Nadine. He’d probably ruined her life, everything she’d worked to build, and that’s if she’d even made it out alive at all…

“Pride, ego, blind obsession… Need I go on?” The list was endless, and both Sam and Rafe were fully aware of it.

“Alright, you made your point.” Not that he hadn’t deserved it, if he was being totally honest with himself he deserved much worse. Sam, however, seemed to soften.

“Hey, I haven’t been much better. We both did a lot of things we regret now that it’s over.” Hearing Sam admit that he’d done things wrong too was a revelation for Rafe, for so long he’d been desperate to hear those words – to prove that Sam wasn’t half the man he made himself out to be – that despite his cooler head regarding the matter now, it still felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders.

It made it easier to admit his own faults, too.

“I guess neither of us have been the most upstanding of people over the years.” Rafe agreed with a self-deprecating smile, one he found he was glad to see Sam return. They had their differences – quite a lot of them, truth be told – but when they were on the same page it felt euphotic.

He hadn’t wanted for much in his life, but this – being close with Sam – was the one thing he’d been denied for so long yet made him happier than anything else could. Not even Avery’s treasure. With that came the desire to be totally honest with him, something he had rarely been before.

“There’s something I should probably tell you. Nadine and I… we were together.” He couldn’t be sure what Sam’s reaction would be, but he was sure it wouldn’t be good. He would take it as it came though, he was done keeping secrets and if that was the price then so be it…

The sarcasm in Sam’s voice and the unimpressed, yet amused, look on his face confused Rafe to no end.

“Oh wow. I am so shocked. I had no idea.” Sam listed generically, completely deadpan.

“You know?” Rafe had no idea how he’d figured it out, they’d been nothing but professional with one another around other people. Rafe’s mind raced as he tried to pinpoint a moment that could have given it away, but Sam quickly put him out of his misery.

“Oh yeah, maybe this’ll jog your memory…” Sam paused to clear his throat, before continuing with the most excruciating attempt at a South African accent he’d ever heard. “It’s not personal.”

The over-sweetening of his imitation of Nadine’s voice betrayed Sam’s jealousy, hidden just behind the consummate teasing.

“You heard that.” Rafe stated, trying to come to terms with what that meant – what Sam had _heard_.

“Every word.” Sam was so smug – the _bastard_. He knew exactly what Rafe was thinking.

“Hmm.” Rafe stared off to the side unblinkingly, praying Sam would drop it but certain that he wouldn’t. It was only a matter of time before Sam came out with it, but he was making him wait for it.

“So you uhh… you need me, huh?” And there it was.

“You’re a real son-of-a-bitch, you know that right?” The wide grin shining at him as he looked back made it all worth it. Rafe couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed at Sam’s antics, and Sam was well aware of it.

“Maybe I’d stop, if I didn’t know you liked it so much.” Sam leaned in slightly as he said it, voice quiet and deep.

_God, he’d missed this_.

The tension simmered between them for a few moments – wholly different to the tension which had pervaded the beginning of their conversation – before Rafe metaphorically took a step back.

“So, what’s next for the great Samuel Drake?” He asked, genuinely curious but also needing to maintain some kind of boundary between them for now.

“Well, I’m a free man now and there’s a lot of exploring to do - I’m sure there are a few lost cities out there still, just waiting to be found.”

_Of course._

Treasure hunting was in Sam’s blood, Rafe didn’t think Sam would ever be able to give it up – he would never expect him to. Yet he couldn’t help but feel… Sullen?

The idea of going back to his ‘normal’ life - running the company - with nothing to distract him from the mundanity of it all made him feel sick; treasure hunting was in his blood as much as it was for the Drakes, it may not have originated in the same way but Rafe felt every part of him drawn to it nonetheless. The adventure, the history, the thrill of the chase… He was meant for this life in every way that mattered.

Rafe had done his fair share of treasure hunting alone; the many years between Nate leaving, and finding Sam alive in Panama had been lonely. He didn’t think he could do that again, not anymore, so it was back to dull reality.

“Would be a shame to find ‘em alone…?”

And there he went - Samuel Drake, changing Rafe’s life in an instant once again.

He’d never thought… Never _hoped_ … Samuel wanted to partner with him again? Those two years they’d spent together were the best of his life, but it was foolish to pretend it had been without its problems – it was the entire reason they’d ended up where they had.

Was it pointless to go through the motions again? Wouldn’t they just end up in the same place as last time?

No.

No, Rafe wouldn’t let that happen. They’d been through this once already, they could learn from those mistakes. They could be _happy_ together, like they had at the start.

In the end there was no question that Rafe was going to say yes, would _always_ say yes, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to give as good a teasing as he’d gotten.

“Well, I’m sure Sullivan could be of assistance…” For the second time that day, a laugh erupted from Sam so purely that Rafe felt more optimistic for the future than he had since that first year searching for Avery’s treasure.

“Shut up.” Sam proceeded to step forward and pull Rafe into his arms, smile never leaving his face as he did.

It was safe to say Rafe was sufficiently ‘shut up’.

Being wrapped in Sam’s arms again, it felt like nothing had ever changed between them. His hold was just as tight, body just as warm, hand holding the back of his head just as lovingly.

_Screw boundaries_.

He had Sam back, and for now that was enough.

“It’s not gonna be easy, you know that right? We’ve still got _a lot_ of shit to sort out between us.” Sam said quietly, as if not wanting to ruin the moment - placating his words with a brush of fingertips across Rafe’s scalp.

“I know…” Rafe leaned back slightly, to look Sam in the eye as he continued. “It’s worth it though, isn’t it?”

“Definitely worth it.” The wondrous look in Sam’s eye intrigued him as to what he was thinking in that moment. His curiosity was answered almost instantly when an unexpectedly tender kiss was placed on his forehead, Rafe’s heart surging at such a clear gesture of affection.

They were really doing this - giving things another go, in every sense. It was almost overwhelming, and Rafe wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Hey you two, when you’re done _canoodling_ , Elena and I are heading out.” Nate called over tactlessly, breaking their bubble of intimacy in the process. Rafe found that he didn’t really mind, they had all the time in the world to work through everything.

“‘ _Canoodling_ ’, what are you - seven?” Sam retorted, never remiss in taking the opportunity to wind someone up – good-naturedly or otherwise.

“Alright, asshole. Just keep in contact, alright? I wanna hear about everything you crazy kids get up to.” Sam – arm still firmly around him – briefly glanced back over from Nate to Rafe, contentedness radiating out.

“Yessir, will do.” He mock saluted his brother with two fingers of his free hand, but decided to finish with something sincerer. “Safe flight.”

“You too.” Nate returned, equally as meaningfully.

Waves were exchanged between the group in a final attempt to prolong the inevitable, but before long Nate and Elena were walking off into the distance to get their cab. As he watched them depart Rafe realised he no longer felt the need to worry if he would ever see Elena again, safe in the knowledge that he’d be sticking with Sam for as long as he possibly could. They’d all be together again, soon enough.

“So, we got the whole world at our feet - where to?” Sam asked excitedly.

Rafe needed no time at all to think of an answer.

“Wherever there’s an adventure.”

Before Sam could reply, Sullivan – making his way over from where he’d said his goodbyes – interjected.

“Well, I think I’ve got you covered there. Before I got dragged into this I was working on a… business deal of sorts.” That certainly piqued their interest.

“Of sorts?” Rafe enquired, fully expecting Sam to bounce off of his feigned obliviousness. He was not disappointed.

“Hmm, dangerous?”

“With these people? Yeah, it’s up there.” In their line of work, when wasn’t it? It was all part of thrill, one Rafe knew both he and Sam enjoyed probably a little too much. Perhaps that was why they were able to work so well together sometimes, or completely fall apart at others… The could work on it.

“Well, we just so happen to know a couple of guys – recently out of a job – who might be perfect for this kind of work…” Sam suggested, continuing the charade of uncertainty that the three were all in on.

“I don’t know, are they trustworthy?” Clearly Sullivan wasn’t one to let up easily on the facetious pretences either…

_This was actually going to be fun._

Sam and Rafe looked to one another co-conspiratorially, before speaking in unison.

“…More or less.”

**Author's Note:**

> So there we go, two years of writing evolution packed into 12k words! It's probably not great, but I hope you enjoyed reading it nonetheless!


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